Her Vampire
by wing of butterfly
Summary: just slightly inspired, maybe parody ...


Her vampire

Late night. Nearly midnight. Stars are glowing, but the Moon is dead, hiding behind peaks of high mountains. In the windows of small Bratislava flat lurkes the darkness, silently almost shy, like giant sleepy beast. But there is still light shining through heavy curtains of one room.  
Andrea Rumanovska can not sleep, her beautiful green eyes are spotted by red blood, but despite everything she is sitting on her bed, writing. The whole world, the city, it´s streets and corners is quiet, quiet like a lullaby half spoken, and only noises of her pen disturbe this almost magical hour. Andrea sighes, then yawns. She´s tired, so much tired. But she has to tell it, has to write it down. To never forget, to always remember.

My dear diary,  
You know, how I hate to read. Well, I have to correct myself now. Let´s say, how I hated to read. It´s funny. Everything was changed by one book. Lenka borrowed it to me, about a week ago saying how great story it is. I didn´t believed her, because Lenka is a bookworm and every book is a great book. She treasure them all. But that isn´t the point. I´ve read it. This Twilight saga thing. The best story ever written, reatest love ever experienced, so well told. I just finished reading it and I can´t even sleep now, I´ve got an exam tommorow, but I don ´t mind. I never cared about my marks, you know that, dear diary. Tell my, my unliving friend, why ... why all guys aren´t like him? Like Edward, the best leading character ever made? So sexy, so caring, so cute and so ... mysterious? Real boys are ... how to put it straight ... boring, usual, no surprises, no tension.  
I cried reading it. Wept like a little girl, who knocked over hers own leg and painfully hit the ground. Almost pathetic. I so looong ... so long to have my own vampire. To love my own elegant, cursed creature of the night.  
Your Ada

Next day sitted Andrea alone behind her desk, half listening to old miss Fonderkova´s chemistry lecture and half daydreaming. Well, maybe more than only half daydreaming. She was entirely drowned in her own world, preoccupied with vampires and their sick love, their strange kind of feeling dancing between hunger and lust.  
Old teacher wrote something on the table, some horrible difficult scheme and turned to class, talking, talking and talking. She looked like some sort of old fish or robot, opening and closing her mouth in strange tune of song no one but she was able to hear. „ I hate chem." thought Andrea and openly yawned. Suddenly something light hitted her shoulder. A paper with massage from someone with very bad handwriting.

Read it already?  
Lenka

Andrea turned and smiled on chubby, small darkhaired girl, sitting two desks behind and nodded. „I love you." Said Andrea to herself. „You showed me beautiful new world, I never believed in. Imaginary world. World with love for everyone, for every stupid, usual, boring girl." The rest of chemistry class Andrea spent in her coffins floating high between the clouds in the sky of fantasy. She pictured herself walking through deserted city streets, lost and a little bit afraid, with autumn leaves moving under her feets and birds silently singing serenades to the night. She pictured a man, a man with a knife and a crazy wicked smile. He wants to stab her, rape her, kill her. That pleasure on his face. Knife pointing on her chest, death echoing in the darkness. Final prayer. But then ... smile on crazy-man´s face fades. He´s pale as a corpse. His body unmoving falling to the muddy ground. Shrieking in agony. Then ... dead. She imagined a dark tall shadow created from mist and flame standing beside her and her fallen murderer. A shadow, just a siluette of a man. Handsome young man turning to Andrea, sweet smile, shiny teeth white like pearls glowing behind bloddy lips, scent of roses and lavender. Mystic fire in his eyes burning with love. Only love that matters, only love worthy of existence. Love of a vampire.  
„ Could you stopp daydreaming when I´m talking to you?" asked Lenka during lunch break.  
„ Sorry, sorry, ok? No offence." Said Andrea and slowly swallowed a full spoon of hot tomato soup. „Ouch." She cried, tears in her eyes.  
„Hmpf. I can´t stop asking myself why I borrowed you that crazy book. You went totaly mad. By the way, what did you do to Denis? He looks horrible."  
„ I don´t like him anymore, okay? He can´t give me what I dream of. Understand. And enough of these damn guestions."  
„ Ada, we are friends ..."  
„ I though that too."  
Lenka´s face turned red and suddenly she looked like a fat, little angel with fever. She stood up and shaking with anger walked out the door, leaving her untouched portion of spinach pasta and Andrea alone.

Dreams are not enough, never enough, there is not satisfaction in them and Andrea knew it. She somehow believed in vampires, fairies, witches and similar beings before, but now her faith was firm. As stone, as tree growing up, piercing sky. As vampire´s heart.  
„ I want to wake up love in you." sang Andrea on her way home. Falling leaves floated around her head, touching her skin with almost intimate affection. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, but then ...  
„Oh."  
„Aw, I´m sorry Ms. Kamenicka, I haven´t ..."  
„That´s alright, alright." said old lady, Andrea´s neighbour, famous all over the neighbourhood because of her cat-obssesion, blankly. She didn´t even feel, that Andrea hit her.  
Cat Lady or Queen of the Cats as people out of fun called her fed all stray, lost animal souls she met. She was a bit crazy, but in sweet, innocent, almost funny way. No one feared her or hated her, because everyone knew how boring and sad would this flats become without Cat Lady and her group of miowing admirers.  
„I´m really sorry." apologized Andrea again, but suddenly she frowned. Old grey eyes of Cat Lady full of tears. So heartbreaking view.  
„What´s happening?"  
„Oh, Oh, my little Chichi! My little poor Chichi." sobbed old woman in very desperate way. „She´s dead. I´ve lost her. What beast could do ... this ... to her! Dead ..."  
Andrea felt something strange in her stromach and her vision blurred.  
„Chichi ... she was my favourite. So cute ... White and fluffy, my little friend. And now ... she´s dead!"  
„ Dead?"  
„Oh yes ... I found her today ... lying ... lying here in the yard. In .. in the corner. Her little sweet neck ripped and thorn. No blood. Nowhere. There was no blood. Only Chichi. What happened to the people? Why are they so bad? So bad?"

It wasn´t the last time. Dead animals appeared in the streets with iron regularity, in the same place, every day. Horor and fear fluttered in the air, nervous people, suspicions grew with every killing. Only Andrea was happy.

Dear diary,  
Now I´m certain. Vampires are real. Like you, like me, like fear they create. They are alive and here. Now my dreams are near. I only need to reach my hand and grasp them. And never let go.  
Andrea

That late evening was Andrea very nervous, so nervous that she hardly ate her dinner: eggs with salad, and then silently left. Without a single word to her parents, without saying goodbye.  
The night was silent, only the Moon whispered as she run through the yard to the place where was Chichi, the first victim of blood-sucking murderer, found. But something was wrong. Those shadows and shades. Moving, dancing, mixing in coctail of unholy expectations. Andrea stopped, happiness in her young face. She saw him. High siloutte in the corner, standing silently under unmoving branches of willows, watching on something behind Andrea´s simple understanding.  
Girl reached her white arms to his direction in a prayer without words. The shadow, beast made of night and hate, coppied her movements and then started to walk towards her. Her dream fulfilled. Or it´s nightmare, living hallucination? Andrea suddenly didn´t like it. No, she didn´t like it at all.  
Rotten filthy clothes, smells of grave ashes and death, clumsy figure, fat stomach full of blood and pieces of swallowed corpses, skin with maps of yellow and violet, shiny eyes without signs of feeling. No mind. No consciousness. Only dump lust and hunger. He smiled. Broken smile, big open mouth like rippen wound, tongue like dead leaf. An invitation.  
Andrea couldn´t scream. Shock sealed her lips, dissapointment filled her heart ...  
„No! No! It´s not you! Not you!" Being didn´t understand. Didn´t know how. Long, long was death, from which he came. He touched her. Almost softly. Like a lover longing for kiss and touch, for life he used to lost.  
Andrea was weak, she couldn´t move, couldn´t escape. Only watch and listen. And cry.

Mr. and Mrs. Rumanovsky never seen their daughter again. After many and many years of waiting for her to return, they died leaving behind only empty flat full of longing and memories. Empty shrine of daughter, who never returned.  
But in a streets where Andrea Rumanovska spend her short life, life in the realm of those alive sometimes ... Are heared soft sounds of ripping and gulping. During those nights when Moon is high and plays chess with shadows. Time after time someone curious opens the window and looks out. Another night someone else does the same. But they never know. One see a man. Other .. woman. And the third see both of them


End file.
